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the great mystery of it. Every blade of grass, every insect,
ant, and golden bee, all so marvellously know their path,
though they have not intelligence, they bear witness to the
mystery of God and continually accomplish it themselves.
I saw the dear lad’s heart was moved. He told me that he
loved the forest and the forest birds. He was a bird-catcher,
knew the note of each of them, could call each bird. ‘I know
nothing better than to be in the forest,’ said he, ‘though all
things are good.’
‘Truly,’ I answered him, ‘all things are good and fair, be-
cause all is truth. Look,’ said I, ‘at the horse, that great beast
that is so near to man; or the lowly, pensive ox, which feeds
him and works for him; look at their faces, what meekness,
what devotion to man, who often beats them merciless-
ly. What gentleness, what confidence and what beauty! It’s
touching to know that there’s no sin in them, for all, all ex-
cept man, is sinless, and Christ has been with them before
us.’
‘Why,’ asked the boy, ‘is Christ with them too?’
‘It cannot but be so,’ said I, ‘since the Word is for all. All
creation and all creatures, every leaf is striving to the Word,
singing glory to God, weeping to Christ, unconsciously ac-
complishing this by the mystery of their sinless life. Yonder,’
said I, ‘in the forest wanders the dreadful bear, fierce and
menacing, and yet innocent in it.’ And I told him how once
a bear came to a great saint who had taken refuge in a tiny
cell in the wood. And the great saint pitied him, went up to
him without fear and gave him a piece of bread. ‘Go along,’
said he, ‘Christ be with you,’ and the savage beast walked